III JACK O’ LANTERN AND THE GLOW WORM

“Mammy, you cut m’ Jack-my-Lantern for me.” Willis was struggling to carve features in a huge pumpkin.

“I tole yer ter let Zeek make dat foolish lookin’ thing,” grumbled Phyllis, faithfully striving however to cut the pumpkin according to Willis’s instructions.

“Make Mary Van one too,” he demanded.

“I got one,” and Mary Van blew into the kitchen door with a gust of chilly wind, “and Papa’s made a pretty one for you too, Willis—ain’t you glad?”

“Whut you all think dem Jacky-Lanterns is enyhow?” Phyllis asked with an air of mystery.

“They are—” Willis hesitated, “they are—funny pretties,” he finished.

“Dey ain’ nuthin’ funny ’bout er show nuff Jack-my-Lantern, I kin tell yer dat fur sartin an’ sho!” Her face assumed a grave expression, “and—take keer, boy, Kitty’ll spill hot greese on yer,” making a dive at Willis in time to save the cook from stumbling. “Come on out er dis hyah kitchen,—’tain’ no place fur chillun no how.”

“Mammy, less go over to Mary Van’s and get m’ Jack-my-Lantern,” coaxed Willis, as Phyllis directed the way toward the nursery.

“Nor, yer doan need hit tell dark. Jack-my-Lanterns doan come out ’cep’in’ at night. Leastways fokes doan see em.”

“Jack-my-Lanterns ain’t anything but big old pumpkins, are they, Mammy Phyllis?” Mary Van asked to reassure herself.

“Dat dey is,” the old nurse’s expression grew fearful and cunning. “Dey’s de wuss sorter hants—dat’s whut dey is.”

This ended the contention of going to Mary Van’s.

“You memb’rs,” she began after an ominous silence, “ole man Gully’s hant, doan yer?”

“Old Langshan rooster, Mammy?” Willis whispered.

“Dat’s de ve’y hant—yas suh—ole lady Gully ain’t skeercely in her grave ’fo’ dat rooster hant start ter gwine down in de cellar—an’ peckin’ ’roun’ like he huntin’ fur sumthin’.

“Abe tell de boys he seen de ole man take er bag er gole down dar onct, an’ he ’speck old Langshan know whar he berry hit—but howsumev’r dat is—one thing wus sho’—dat rooster peck in one cornder er dat celler, tell dem boys pis’n him.”

The children moved closer to Phyllis. “Mammy, did he come back in another rooster?”

“No, ma’m, he didn’t,—he say he nuv’r speck ter come back in no mo’ creeturs ter git pis’n’d ergin. ‘De nex’ time I comes back,’ sez he, ‘hit’s gwine be in sumthin’ nuth’r fokes can’t projick none er der dev’ment wid.’ Ahah,—an’ yer knows whut dat is, doan yer?”

Both little heads shook a trembling negative.

“Well, hit’s er Jack-my-lantern!” said Phyllis, and at her solemn statement the children looked aghast.

“HEP! HEP!—SOMEBODY COME HOPE ME!”

“Yas, ma’m,—an yas, suh,” she bowed to each in turn, “he come back straight es he kin float hissef ter de swamp down yond’r on yo’ granpa’s rice plantation.” She waited for this to be entirely absorbed by her eager little listeners, then added: “I seen ’em m’sef winkin’, an’ blinkin’ all erbout dar,” suiting facial contortions to her words.

“One day Miss Gully’s bigges’ boy went down in de cell’r ter git some tat’rs fur dinn’r, an’ fus’ thing yer know he start ter yellin’ ‘Hep! hep!—Somebody come hope me!’

“Abe an’ de uth’r boys wint down dar, an’ seed de boy layin’ flat on de floo’ whar de hant thow’d him—”

“Mammy, lemme get in your lap,” begged Mary Van, while Willis jumped on one of her knees. Mary Van followed suit, and before Phyllis could reply they had cuddled upon her, almost taking her breath.

“Sakes erlive! you all gittin’ ’way wid me wusser’n dem hants done de Gully boys.”

“Go on, Mammy,” they both urged.

“Well, Abe an’ de uth’r two boys fotch him up sta’rs an’ lay him on his ma’s baid. Dey lef’ him er minute ter go git some cam’fer, an’ when dey come back, dar sot er crow on de haid er de baid tellin’ de boy:

“He git up, he do, an’ go out de do’, but hit’s s’ dark he tell de crow he can’t see how ter git erlong. Jes den Jacky-Lantern flash up an’ say:

“De boy run up ter de light, but hit go out jes es he git clost up ter hit. He say: ‘Hole on dar, whar yer takin’ me?’ Jacky-Lantern say

“Johnny Squinch Owel fly b’fo’ him an’ say:

“Boy tell him, ‘Git out’n m’ way, Johnny, I’m atter money—I ain’ got no time ter talk ter you.’

“Johnny, he keep er foll’rin’ de boy an’ holl’r:

“Jacky-Lantern light up ergin, an’ de boy start up runnin’. ‘I’ll git yer dis time,’ he say; but Jacky-Lantern drap down in de groun’ ev’y time he git enywhars near ’bouts him, an’ Willie Wisp pop up way ov’r de uth’r side.”

“Who was Willie Wisp, Mammy?”

“He wus er nuth’r hant dat tak’n up wid ole man Gully. When de boy see Jacky-Lantern pop up hyah, an’ Willie Wisp pop up dar,—he jump fus’ dis erway, an’ dat erway tell—”

“What was the boy’s name?” asked Willis.

“Lemme see, I b’leef dat boy name Jack.”

“No, Mammy, Jacky-Lantern’s name, Jack,” Willis reminded her.

“Dat’s so.” She dropped her head on one side: “Dat Gully boy’s name, Bill—Bill Gully’s his name. Dem uth’r two boys an’ Abe takes atter Bill an’ holl’r ter him ter let dem hants erlone, but Bill tell ’em ter ’ten’ ter der own biznes, dat he atter gole.

“Dey holl’r back, ‘Dey’s er plenty er gole in de cell’r—come on back an’ hope dig hit out.’

“‘I doan want no lit’le gole you fines at home,’ sez Bill.

“Abe he holl’r back ergin, ‘Please, suh, come back, dar’s er heap mo’ hyah dan you kin git dar.’

“But he so tie’d runnin’ fus’ atter Jacky-Lantern, an’ den atter Willie Wisp, dat he hatt’r stop an’ blow er lit’le. Abe an’ de boys dey kotch up wid him, an’ dey tussels consid’rble tryin’ ter git him back, but dat boy Bill skuffle scand’lus. He thow ev’y one uv ’em flat in de mud.

“‘You all ain’ nuthin’ but er passel er gooses,’ he say, ‘talkin’ ’bout huntin’ gole at home. Don’t yer know yer got ter fight an’ scratch, an’ run, an’ keep er gwine tell yer gits ter whar dese hyah gol’ lights lives—den yer fines de bag er gole?’

“Fo’ de boys an’ Abe kin git dersefs up of’n de groun’ whar Bill knock ’em, Bill wus gwine like er race hoss atter Jacky-Lantern. Bimeby de groun’ ’gun ter git pow’ful sof’, an’ Bill, his foots ’gun ter sink down tur’bul. He can’t go fas’ no mo’,—I tell yer de trufe, hit wus all Bill cud do ter pull hisse’f erlong.”

“What was the matter with Bill, Mammy Phyllis?” whispered Mary Van.

“He in de swamp, honey, whar de groun’ wus mirey,—an’ hit wus full er hants too. Bill feel er hot flash pass him, an’ er Jacky-Lantern’d pop up—hyah come ernuth’r hot sumthin nuth’r, an’ Willie Wisp ’u’d pop up right ’long side er him.

“Bill say, ‘Is dis whar yer lives?’

“Jacky say:

“Johnny Squinch hoot up in de tree: ‘Unch-oo, Doanchu go.’

“Brer Bull Frog holl’r: ‘Go back, go back.’

“Ole lady Gully’s hant come up in er big ball er light, an’ she moan ter Bill:

“Bill say: ‘Who is you?’

“Miss Gully say:

“Bill say, ‘I done start atter dis gole, an’ I’m gwine see de race out.’

“Jacky-Lantern an’ Willie Wisp, an’ all de res’ er de bad hants down in de swamp jes er poppin’ up ev’y which er way, an’ all uv ’em holl’r:

“Bill he dunno which way ter go, so he ax ’em: ‘Which one got de money sho nuf?’ But dey keeps er bobbin’ up:

tell Bill say ter hissef: ‘I’m gwine foll’r de one look like he got de mostes.’ He take er step dis er way, an’ he sink down so fur dat he pull, an’ pull, an’ pull, tell he pull his shoe off. Some mo’ Jackys calls him way ov’r yond’r:

“So he try ter take er long step ov’r ter dem, but he sink so fur dis time dat he pull, an’ pull, an’ pull, an’ pull, but he can’ git his foots up.

“His ma’s hant ris’ up den, an’ bus’ out cryin’:

“Bill he keep tryin’ ter pull hisse’f up, but he done sink down ter his gallus straps.”

“Please, Mam, pull him out, p-l-e-a-s-e,” pleaded the little girl.

“Doan yer worry yose’f, his ma’s wid dat boy.”

“Yes, but she’s only a spirit.”

“Doan keer ef she is er hant, she’s his ma,—an’ de Lawd nuv’r do let dat part die out in no ’ooman. Well, dar wus Bill jes er sinkin’ an’ er sinkin’—”

“But he wusn’t any deeper than his waist, you said, Mammy,” begged Mary Van.

“He bleeg ter be er lit’le deep’r by dis time, but his ma wus cryin’ an’ beggin’ de Lawd so hard ter spar’ de boy an’ give him er-nuth’r chanct, dat er big thorney bush grow up quick ’long side er Bill an’ retch out hits arms,—an’ de thorney part stick right thu Bill’s close, so Jacky-Lantern, an’ Willie Wisp an’ de res’ er de bad hants can’t pull ’im no fur’r. Bill ’gun ter see dat he wus hangin’ ov’r torment, an’ dat wus de place de gole he bin runnin’ atter stay, so he rech out an’ grab de thorney bush, he did, an’ de blood come tricklin’ down on his han’s whar de briers stick him, but his ma’s speeret come out on de thorney bush in er big, big, big ole glow wurm, an’ she say:

“He notice den dat all de uth’r lights poppin’ up an’ poppin’ out, an’ hoppin’ erbout, but de glow wurm’s light wus studdy.”

“Did Bill know it was his mama?” Bill’s safety was uppermost in Mary Van’s mind now.

“He doan ’zackly know hit, but he think he do, caze he know nobody ain’ gwine stick ter him atter dey’s in heb’n cep’n his ma. Darfo’ he keep his eye on de glow wurm, he do. He know dat studdy light wus his ma’s speeret.”

“Don’t let his hands bleed any more, Mammy,” she begged.

“Doan yer git too skeer’d er de blood uv ’pentence, chile. Bill done sin, an’ he got ter be born’d ergin, thu suf’in an’ mis’ry. Howsumev’r he foll’rin’ de studdy light er dat glow wurm, so ’tain’ long ’fo’ she show him er tree on t’oth’r side dat wus smooth an’ strong, an’ Bill tu’n loose er de bush an’ grab holt er de tree—Bob Wind he come an’ hope de tree ter lif’ Bill up,—an’ Bob give one er ole man Harricane’s blows dat take Bill clean out’n de mirey clay, an’ lan’ him on de rock.”

“Was he clear out of the swamp?”

“And where was his mama?” both children pressed their questions.

“He wusn’t clean out, but he wus clost on ter de aige—all he need is er lit’le mo’ uv his ma’s studdy light ter show him de way home,—an’ he got hit too, fur dar she wus by him on de rock, whin he come thu. She crawl ’long mouty slow b’fo’ him, caze Bill wus in er pow’ful bad fix, but her light ain’ flick’r, an’ hit keep bright an’ studdy, an’ bimeby atter er long time she lan’ him at home safe an’ soun’.”

“How could it take long?” Willis was keeping tab on the time.

“Yer see, baby, yer kin nachelly fly wid Bob Wind when yer’s on de road ter Satan wid Jacky-Lantern, an’ Willie Wisp lightin’ hit up so purty fur yer; but whin yer starts back, an’ de road’s dark—an’ yer got jes one lit’le light, hit take er long time ter fine yer way erbout.”

“Was Abe and the boys waiting for Bill?” Mary Van desired to see the home reunited.

“Dey wus waitin’, but dey wusn’t settin’ down waitin’. Abe an’ dem boys had done dig dat gole out’n de cell’r an’ buy ’em er passel er mules, an’ cows, an’ chick’ns, an’ bilt ’em er fine house, an’ raise sich craps, dat de ole farm tu’n out ter be de bigges’ plantation in dem parts.”

“Did Bill get home?”

“Ter be sho’, son, ain’t I done tole yer de glow wurm gwine p’int out de road fur him?”

“Did they give Bill some money, too?”

“Cose dey did, gal, der ma’s speeret light up der h’arts so bright dat dey ain’ see no rees’n ter keep all de money jes’ ’caze dey stays at home an’ fines hit.—Sut’nly dey give Bill his sheer.”

“Did the glow worm stay with them?”

“Dey ma’s speeret stay’s dar, but de glow wurm hatt’r g’long back ter de swamp ter hope de res’ er de po’ sinn’rs dat gits tang’led up runnin’ atter Jacky-Lanterns an’ Willie Wispes.”